She thought she’d achieved her ultimate “oneness.” She meditated, and yoga’d. Drank green tea, ate chia seeds. She ohmed every morning, namasted every night. She was at one with the universe, at one with herself. Clean. Clear. Environmentally Friendly. Centered. Free.
Then Bob drove up in his beat-up pickup truck. Parked half-way across her herb garden. Smiled his toothy grin, shuffling along in a plaid shirt, jeans, and rotten sneakers. His scruffy beard was scruffier than usual. He needed a hair cut and a shower.
Bob handed her a plastic grocery bag – inside was a quart of double-double-Dutch chocolate premium ice cream. He held out two spoons.
Ohm. Uhm. Yum.
flash fiction: 110